


give me a second go

by inkyslumber



Series: fill my lungs with sweetness [2]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, 僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia
Genre: Deaf Clint Barton, Hanahaki Disease, M/M, Reincarnation, Requited Love, cosmetologist!hawks, hawkhawks, tattooist!clint barton, tattooist!natasha romanov
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-28
Updated: 2019-12-19
Packaged: 2020-07-23 15:42:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,739
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20010757
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inkyslumber/pseuds/inkyslumber
Summary: He studied his face and looked for any signs of recognition. If he’d had any dreams like he had, he didn’t make it evident. Ashitaka wasn’t sure if he was relieved or disappointed. A phantom prickle in his chest made itself known, though, and he reluctantly dropped Clint’s hand. He’d have lied if he said he didn’t miss the contact immediately.Maybe this was fate?





	1. lemon geranium

“Lucky, no!”

Ashitaka turned towards the shout just as his legs were knocked out from under him. The air rushed from his lungs when he hit the ground, and he laid there long enough for the offender to land on his chest. He brought his hand up to pat the mass of golden fur.

This must’ve been Lucky.

“Good dog,” he groaned, followed by a huff when Lucky shifted.

“Aw, futz - Lucky, get off!”

“Whuff!”

Lucky’s owner had tried to call him back from the park grass, but Ashitaka wasn’t surprised that he refused to move. He seemed perfectly content to keep him pinned to the ground and deprived of oxygen. What did surprise him was the voice of Lucky’s owner. Now that he had heard it twice, he could’ve sworn he knew him. Ashitaka chose not to dwell on it, however, and supportively patted his hands on Lucky’s sides.

“C’mon, Lucky. I’m not keen on concrete. Let a guy up, will ya? Your dad sounds like he’s about to have a fit.”

Despite the shift in Lucky’s weight that resulted, he stayed on Ashitaka’s chest. He even licked his chin. Gross, but he couldn’t be mad. Dogs were just like that. Though it probably took less than a minute, it felt like he had waited at least half an hour for his owner to run over and claim him.

“I am so,” his owner wheezed, “so sorry.”

“It’s fine,” Ashitaka said.

He’d intended to say more, but Lucky had launched himself off of his chest when his owner had arrived. Instead, all he managed was another groan. While Ashitaka pushed himself up into a sitting position, Lucky’s owner admonished him for his “crimes” and sounded more embarrassed than anything else. It gave him a chance to look at the other man unnoticed, and his heart leapt to his throat. There was no way - not now, not ever - that the man that had haunted his dreams was real. Shaken, Ashitaka stared longer than he had intended.

“Need a hand up?”

Ashitaka startled. He hadn’t even noticed the change in attention. Lucky was back in his face, and he managed a grin for his owner. Uncanny resemblance aside, he’d spent enough time on the ground. This was a conversation he couldn’t avoid.

“Yeah, thanks.” He grabbed the hand that had been offered to him. “I’m Ashitaka by the way.”

“Clint.” He said, and hauled him to his feet.

They held hands a moment longer than Ashitaka felt was really necessary, and he tried not to let his admiration show. Clint’s hands were warm and calloused, and he stood a whole head taller than him. He studied his face and looked for any signs of recognition. If he’d had any dreams like he had, he didn’t make it evident. Ashitaka wasn’t sure if he was relieved or disappointed. A phantom prickle in his chest made itself known, though, and he reluctantly dropped Clint’s hand. He’d have lied if he said he didn’t miss the contact immediately.

Maybe this was fate?

“Can I get you a coffee? As an apology?”

Ashitaka grinned immediately. He reached down and scratched behind Lucky’s ears, well aware that he’d gotten jealous of the lack of attention on him. Lucky pressed himself into his leg, pleased. Back on his leash, he had pulled it around his legs and ensured that Ashitaka stayed near. Clever dog. He’d have to sneak him some treats from his pockets later.

“As long as it’s a dog-friendly place. I like Lucky.” He bargained. “I don’t think he’ll let me leave, anyway. I’m a bit wrapped up here as it is.”

“Deal.” Clint agreed with a grin of his own.

He hadn't expected to ever meet the man he’d dreamt up, but Ashitaka wasn’t about to complain. Enough mornings spent alone when he longed for a person he’d never met had passed. This was his chance to get things right; he’d literally met the man of his dreams.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i promised something softer as an apology for "i am the sick boy", so here i am!! with a sequel!!  
> almost didn't follow through with writing softer, so shoutout to romeo for keeping me in line owo"


	2. forget-me-not

After three weeks, Ashitaka had worked up the courage to ask Clint out. He waited outside of his tattoo shop and fiddled with his phone, too embarrassed to enter. Natasha had given him the third degree the first - and last - time he’d gone in. Other than Clint’s appointment, the shop had been empty, and she’d turned the sign to “closed” just for her interrogation. Ashitaka swore to Clint that day that he had developed a fear of needles.

Clint had just laughed. That, he’d said, was Natasha being nice.

Regardless of his reassurance, Ashitaka had avoided the inside of the shop whenever he knew Clint was busy. He got excited about his appointments, showed off sketches, and was predictable in how long he’d take to actually go on his lunch break. What he hadn’t anticipated was for Natasha to notice his post outside the shop. The bell on the door jingled softly, which would have meant that Clint finished early. Instead, Natasha slipped out with an expression that screamed “trouble” on her face. Ashitaka silently compared it to the look the cats at the shelter got before everything went sideways. It had been one of those mornings, too, where a well-executed move in the cat room had tipped a cat tree and scattered the troops. He’d had to call Rumi over from the rabbit room just to herd all the culprits back.

So Ashitaka braced himself. Clint wouldn’t be out for another ten minutes, minimum, and Natasha had needed even less last time. The worst part was her silence. She stood there with him, pen to her lips and phone in hand. If he tried to go inside, he would have to ask her to move. He fiddled with his wallet chain and stopped only when she looked over at him.

“Stop that.”

“Or what?” Ashitaka moved to swing it again.

“When you come in for your fill, I’ll tell Clint you requested me.”

Ashitaka dropped the chain immediately.

“No. You wouldn’t. He can’t tell when you’re joking about that, and he already thinks I’m serious when I joke about that- ” Ashitaka argued. He paused only to take a deep breath. “Besides, your clients already lose their _shit_ when I so much as look at you. Did you know they think we’re dating? What is this, the paleolithic era that Clint’s so fond of? Bastard thinks it’s funny!”

Her green eyes sparkled when she inhaled from her pen. Natasha’s thumb stilled over the touchscreen, and she turned towards Ashitaka. instinctively, he stepped back.

“I will.” She said without hesitation. “And I’ll follow up on it.”

“Nat, you’re killing the mood.”

Ashitaka’s tunnel vision on her cleared immediately at the sound of Clint’s voice. He had let out his client with an amused expression, and bumped his shoulder against his partner’s when he turned to locked the shop’s door behind him. Natasha winked with a smirk and pocketed her cell phone. Unnerved, Ashitaka averted his eyes.

“We had plans today?” Clint asked. He sounded guilty, and Ashitaka ran his hand through his hair.

“Surprise? You said you didn’t have lunch plans, and I had a cancellation,” Ashitaka explained. He reached for Clint’s hand and walked while he spoke. “so I thought I would stop by. There’s this little hole in the wall I wanted to check out, walking distance? A client recommended it, said they make the most authentic pizza.”

“I- Yeah?” Clint faltered. “Pizza’s good.”

“This pizza’s supposed to be _great_ though. Phenomenal. A little slice of Italy in the rush of Manhattan. Like, Shakespearean soliloquies are the only way to begin a proper poetic wax on the place. Family-owned, too. Never mainstream, no one knows how they manage to do it, they’re just grateful they do.”

He pulled a bemused Clint aside to dodge a streetlamp. Though he walked in step with Ashitaka, he didn’t have his usual reaction time. Ashitaka slowed, and studied Clint’s face in hopes that he hadn’t just dragged the man into something he genuinely didn’t want to do. Clint looked up from their hands and caught his gaze with his familiar intensity.

“What?”

Ashitaka turned back to the street ahead of him. He could only guess that Clint didn’t want to hold hands. That had to be it. Selfishly, he kept his hold and ignored his question. They were almost at the pizzeria. One of them had to pay attention to traffic when they crossed, and Ashitaka didn’t trust Clint to do it after he’d nearly collided with a streetlamp.

“Anyway, it’s a date?” Ashitaka tried to state. His confidence wavered.

“It’s a-” Clint started, only to go silent. “Wait.”

His heart leapt to his throat and dove down to the pit of his stomach. Fuck. He had misinterpreted the past three weeks, taken a leap and fallen straight into a canyon. Ashitaka prepared to apologize and backpedal. He relaxed his hand in Clint’s, and was surprised to find that Clint was now the one with a tight hold. Reluctantly, he forced himself to look at Clint.

Clint wasn’t even looking at him.

“This is Brandi’s!”

Ashitaka’s panicked train of thought screeched to a halt.

“That’s what the sign says.”

“No, futz, I know this place!”

“There’s no way,” Ashitaka argued weakly. He wilted a little at the thought that he couldn’t even surprise Clint with somewhere new.

“I mean, shit. Like deja vu? You ever been somewhere you haven’t?”

“Yeah.”

The panic came back full force, and Ashitaka realized what this meant. To what degree, he didn’t know, but Clint remembered. His chest prickled like the day he’d met him. Clint didn’t give him a chance to dwell on the sensation, however. He tugged on his hand and lead the way inside the pizzeria. Ashitaka remained uncharacteristically quiet until they were seated and the waiter had left to get their drinks.

“We aren’t on the same page, so are you considering this our second date?” Clint asked with a goofy smile. “Only asking ‘cause I thought we were already dating.”

Ashitaka stared at him mutely. Oh. His panic took the backseat, and he noticed how red Clint was. He’d have to rethink the past three weeks. Clint had made the first move.

“Oh.” He breathed.

Clint looked indignant under his embarrassment, and Ashitaka hurried to continue.

“You’re gonna have to tally everything up for me, then,” he teased. He placed his elbow on the table so he could lean forward cradle his chin his hand. “Two is about as high as I can count if it’s not on a trimmer. Those are labeled, you know.”

After a beat of silence, Clint barked out a laugh.

“Deal. And since you found the place, I’m paying.”

The parallel to their first meeting wasn’t lost on Ashitaka, and he was able to give Clint a grin in return. It was technically his turn to pay, but he’d let his boyfriend have this one. His _boyfriend_. Ashitaka was giddy just at the thought of the word. He’d have to find a way to work it into his regular vocabulary now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _and the words start coming, and they don't stop coming, and they don't stop coming--_  
>  auieghkjsr this chapter is twice as long as i intended, but it just be like that sometimes.


	3. yellow acacia

In the wake of his botched confession at the pizzeria, Ashitaka was determined not to waste any more time with Clint. He made a point to take Clint’s hand whether they walked side by side, or sat close to one another. His texts were punctuated by heart emojis frequently. And the redness that took over the tops of his ears? That was, without a doubt, the cherry on top. Ashitaka lived for the one tell that Clint couldn’t hide. He could level his voice, straighten his expression, and hide his blush behind his tan. What he couldn’t do was cover his ears without suspicion.

Ashitaka reveled in what amounted to a little over two weeks of their “official” status as a couple. His boyfriend - and didn’t that feel good to say - continued to insist that his count was off. It didn’t help that he cheated every time it was brought up, either.

“It’s definitely been three months, babe. First date? Coffee.”

Clint ran his fingers through Ashitaka’s hair affectionately. He had invited him over to watch his and Lucky’s favorite show, _Dog Cops_ , and on commercial had offhandedly mentioned that it was their “three month anniversary”. Ashitaka thought it was a low blow, given the fact that he was draped over him contentedly.

“I have three more weeks, Clint.” He argued weakly. “It can’t be three months if I didn’t know we were dating, you dork. That’s not how this works. It’s a date on the calendar!”

“It’s not a date on the calendar, it’s a feeling in your heart!” Clint said immediately.

Ashitaka buried his face into the crook of Clint’s neck. His laughter was muffled by the position, though his body shook with the effort. Clint’s hand moved from his scalp to the base of his neck, and his fingers curled into the hair there. He couldn’t see his face now, but he’d put money on his boyfriend’s mix of embarrassment and exasperation. Sometimes it was just fun to get him riled up. When Clint was passionate about something, he never let it go.

He loved that about him, really.

The thought stole the air from his lungs. He covered his sudden silence with a deep breath and kissed Clint’s jaw. Maybe he’d let him have this one. Ashitaka wouldn’t let this go without one last effort, though.

“What about two anniversaries? One for Lucky, and one for us-”

Lucky woofed from behind the couch in what Ashitaka would use as approval.

“See? Lucky agrees! You can’t deny him this opportunity. He deserves to celebrate his hard work, too!”

It was Clint’s turn to laugh now and his hand left Ashitaka’s head entirely. Surprised, he peeled himself up from his position on his chest. Clint had chosen to laugh open rather than try and cover it up like Ashitaka had. He used his free hand to cover his mouth, however, and the other had dropped down off the side of the couch to pet Lucky. The dog of the hour pressed himself as close to Clint has he could get. His tail slammed into Ashitaka and Clint’s tangled legs, and he was clearly happy to have been acknowledged. He must’ve gotten up after hearing him say his name twice.

Ashitaka reached out and scratched Lucky behind the ears as well.

“You’re a good matchmaker, Lucky,” he cooed.

“A _very_ good matchmaker.” Clint agreed after his laughter had tapered off. “No more matchmaking though, alright? I’m good now.”

“What, you don’t want to date around a little more?” Ashitaka teased, as though his heart hadn’t just skipped a beat.

“I’ve got everything I need right here,” he confessed plainly. Ashitaka would have thought that Clint was unbothered by his own words if not for how clearly red his ears had turned.

Ashitaka repositioned himself on top of Clint. He pressed a kiss to the corner of his lips with a smile, and then rested his head on Clint’s sternum.

“Good. You’re not getting up anytime soon.” He said once he was settled.

Clint placed his hand back in Ashitaka’s hair and returned to his previous combing.

“Wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.” Clint sighed softly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> soft chapter... sometimes it's just gotta be _soft_.  
> i needed some fluff before i actually incorporate any plot in here aughkjsrnfd
> 
> it's not easy being your own fandom 😔 gotta make all the content you wanna read for yourself!!


	4. star of bethlehem

Ashitaka had spent the night at Clint’s apartment multiple times, and was well aware of how he slept. His boyfriend was a heavy sleeper with a tendency to sleepwalk; on calm nights, he merely stole the covers and violently evicted Ashitaka from his bed. Ashitaka himself was a sound sleeper, and he rarely stirred even when Clint’s REM cycle kicked in. It took some serious movement from Clint to wake him. So when he jolted into consciousness to find himself just as he’d fallen asleep, Ashitaka was prepared to chalk it up to the horror movie they’d watched earlier that night. A nightmare he couldn’t remember that had clawed at his chest.

He hadn’t placed the sound that woke him right away. Ashitaka stretched where he lay, unsettled, and shifted his arms around his pillow. Choked, hyperventilated breaths from beside him finally pierced the haze, and he sat up quickly. In the dim light of the room, he could see Clint’s twisted form. His blunt fingernails dragged from his collarbone down his ribs. Clint’s eyes were wide open and his face was contorted in agony only his dreamself was aware of. For several pained seconds, Ashitaka could only take in the situation with chilled dread. Then, as though his body had finally caught up with his mind, he flipped on the bedside lamp. He hesitantly grasped one of Clint’s wrists, and rubbed his thumb across his palm in a repetitive motion.

“Clint, darling, it’s just a nightmare,” he soothed. “You need to wake up. You’re alright.”

Realistically, Ashitaka knew Clint couldn’t hear him. But speaking aloud the words that he wished Clint could hear right now grounded him. They reduced his own panic so he could wake him. Clint struggled to pull his hand out of Ashitaka’s in his sleep, and he adjusted his grip accordingly. Ashitaka repeated his mantra steadily. He could do nothing but wait now for Clint to come to.

When he woke, Clint gasped for breath. He clenched his free hand into a fist over his heart that was only released after several deep breaths reassured him there was air in his lungs. Ashitaka waited patiently while Clint gathered himself. He had moved his hand to hold his, and laced their fingers together. When Clint finally turned to look at him, his expression left him shaken. Hurt and betrayal featured prominently on his face. After a single beat, Ashitaka released his hand like he had been burnt, and flinched back.

“Clint-” Ashitaka started.

His breath caught as he found himself on the edge of the bed. Torn between more distance from Clint’s expression and avoiding a bruise on his tailbone, Clint made the decision for him. He caught his wrist firmly and pulled him back onto the mattress. Ashitaka forced himself to look Clint in the eyes, and found that the emotion had remained. It was too much to bear.

Ashitaka pulled back with more force this time, and swung his feet onto the ground in one swift motion. He walked swiftly into the kitchen and told himself that he didn’t care whether or not Clint followed him. What did matter, his brain rationalized, was the phantom itch. All it had taken was one look from Clint and it had returned. Crawled in his lungs and scratched up his throat, panic and memory wrapped up in one. Desperate to remove the feeling, he filled a mug from the rack with tap water and tossed it back. His body had other ideas. The water came back up into the sink with heavy, wet coughs that rattled his ribcage. In the silence that followed, Clint lumbered over in his peripheral.

“Ashi,” he said softly, “are you alright?”

He couldn’t help but laugh a little at the question, throat rough from its attempt to evict a phantom presence. Unsure of whether or not he’d put in his hearing aids, Ashitaka turned to face Clint and leaned his hip on the sink. Clint gestured helpfully to the backs of his ears.

“I’m not the one that woke from a nightmare, babe. Just went down the wrong pipe, that’s all.”

The endearment and dodge fell flat; Clint just looked guilty. However, his eyes bored into Ashitaka across the kitchen relentlessly. Ashitaka fidgeted under the intensity of his boyfriend’s stare, and focused instead on what he could see of Clint’s tattoos. The flowers that wrapped around his shoulders and went down to his elbows.

“It’s not you. Personally. I mean, shit.” Clint floundered. “I’ve always had these nightmares. They stopped for a while after we met, and it was nice. I didn’t expect it to last. Kinda hoped you wouldn’t be here when one hit.”

“I barely live at my own apartment, dumbass.” Ashitaka teased half-heartedly.

At the very least, Clint smiled briefly.

“I remember dying, airways full of flowers. Roots, stems, leaves, petals - the lot of it. So I had Nat put ‘em all up and down my arms. Externalize it. It’s just a nightmare.”

“Who killed you?” Ashitaka asked, ashes in his mouth.

Clint shuffled where he stood, and for the first time since he’d entered the kitchen, he looked away from Ashitaka. Aside from the conflict in his statements - memories and nightmares weren’t the same thing, Clint Barton - Ashitaka found it to be an obvious tell that he wouldn’t even look at him now. Feet heavy, he crossed the kitchen to stand directly before him. Clint could turn his head if he wanted, but Ashitaka needed to be near him.

He needed to know.

“Clint.”

He didn’t look at him, and instead Clint reached blindly to hold Ashitaka’s hands between his own. Roles reversed, Ashitaka noted that Clint had made a point to stare over his head, rather than try and look him in the eye again. Tempted as he was to make him look at him, he waited for Clint to speak.

“S’Just a nightmare. No one knew.”

Ashitaka breathed slowly - counted both in and out - before he spoke again.

“We’re talking later. _Later_ later, with comfort food and Lucky.” He hoped that his tone left no room for arguments, despite his own reluctance on the subject.

Clint didn’t respond, and instead pressed a kiss to his forehead. It was too early to have a heavy conversation. They had too little sleep to think clearly enough to talk about things. Ashitaka could make a list a mile long on why they couldn’t talk about the disease then and there, even if his reasons would get more and more outlandish as it went on. At the end of it all, however, the most important reasons stood out. Clint wasn’t ready to talk, and he was still by his side.

Maybe, then, he had already earned some forgiveness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> there's a way more painful version of this that i forcefully slapped out of my own hands. only angst lite(tm) allowed!!  
> (as such, this has become more of a writing exercise for myself to square up and write less angst in soft things. oops.)
> 
> \- - -
> 
> we have a server for the overall crossover, and for hawkhawks!! come visit us!  
> [here we are!](https://discord.gg/CqtcXQM)


	5. prince's feather

Despite his boyfriend’s best tactics, Ashitaka had held true to his decision made in the early hours of the morning. He and Clint had climbed back into bed with Lucky and dug their fingers into his fur to ground them for the conversation. Clint had spoiled the idea of comfort food with breakfast in bed, which had left them too full for anything to stall with in their mouths. Ashitaka had privately counted on that. Without anything sweet or salty to buy time with, he had forced himself to open up first. His recollection was far from linear; he started with how he’d been paralyzed with joy and fear when he’d met Clint at the park, and the words tumbled out from there.

His throat crawled, and his lungs felt heavy.

Ashitaka ploughed on through the sensation and the panic it brought. It was phantom, he reminded himself, and couldn’t hurt him now. His body didn’t seem to care what his mind thought. He cleared his throat several times, excused the motion as though it was related to the tears that spilled over in his guilt.

When he had finished, Ashitaka kept his eyes on Lucky. It was easier that way, to look at a dog that knew he was needed but not why. Lucky had sprung up several times and licked the tears from their faces, too. He really was the best dog.

Clint had gone silent - contemplative, perhaps - rather than comfort Ashitaka at the end. He preferred it that way. Ashitaka didn’t want Clint to comfort him when he’d been the one to end them both, lungs full of flowers that still haunted them with their phantom presence. He didn’t deserve Clint’s comfort. If Clint knew how Ashitaka felt, he never said. His hand covered Ashitaka’s and their fingers laced together with a grip that was borderline frightening.

Unlike when Ashitaka had spoken, Clint told his tale linearly. He started with the very first time they had met, and with a clinical detachment recalled from there. Ashitaka was sure that he had omitted several details in the process. Rather than call him on it, he listened patiently and flipped his hand over. He returned Clint’s grip with their fingers re-laced. The hardest part for Clint, it seemed, was the nightmares. Without support from Natasha or Phil, he’d had to parse through the memories of the disease alone. Natasha had no recollection of their previous shared life.

Ashitaka related to that pain, but refrained from telling Clint as much.

He straightened his shoulders and braced himself. Ashitaka forced himself to look straight at Clint, mindful of his hearing. He should have done that from the start, he thought guiltily. Too late now. Clint returned his stare with his mouth set in a grim line. It was now or never.

“I still love you,” he said, “past and present.”

Ashitaka hesitated, his breath caught in his lungs.

“Even if you won’t have me.” Which, if he was honest with himself, he more than understood if Clint made that decision.

Clint looked at him like he had grown a second head - or perhaps regrown the wings he so sorely lacked now - and said nothing. With every second that passed, Ashitaka wondered if this would be the last time he would sit beside Clint and look upon him so plainly. His last time in this apartment, with the best dog anyone could have asked for. Worst, the last time he could call Clint his boyfriend.

“Do you really think I went through all this to leave you? To kick you out?” Clint exclaimed. He tightened his hold on Ashitaka’s hand, and lowered his tone to a point that sounded like reverence. “Takaki.”

“Don’t say my name like that, Barton!” Ashitaka demanded, embarrassed. He returned the pressure Clint had put on his hand.

“Ashitaka,” he sighed. His lips quirked in a way that showed he had chosen to repress a smile. “You’re a fucking idiot, you know that?”

Ashitaka could feel how his face had burst into flames, the heat prickling down his neck to his chest. He shouldn’t have been so affected by the way Clint said his name, not to mention the way he’d sworn plainly instead of censored himself. Clint seemed content to take advantage of his uncharacteristic silence.

“I still love you, too,” Clint told him, “past, present, and future.”

Beneath their joined hands, Lucky woofed softly. Damn this man and his dog. As if aware that Ashitaka had thought of him, Lucky’s tail beat steadily against the bed and their crossed legs.

“That’s pretty gay of you.” Ashitaka managed. “You promising me the future, cupid? After all of that?”

“Babe, I might be.”

Ashitaka spluttered and moved to pull his hand away from Clint’s. He so, _so_ desperately wanted to cover his face. But his boyfriend, ever the man out for revenge for his own embarrassment, kept his hold strong. Stupid, muscular boyfriend.

“So?”

“Clint!”

Clint gave him a crooked grin.

“Let’s get matching tattoos. It’s not every lifetime you get a chance to make things right.”

“I am not getting tattooed by Nat. She’s a sadist, Clint. Can’t we just-”

“It’s her job, angel. Besides, she’s got a better eye for detail.”

“Better eye for detail my ass.” Ashitaka scoffed.

“It is a nice ass,” he chuckled, “but that’s not where we’re getting tattoos.”

Ashitaka scowled as strongly as he could. He’d crack in mere seconds, he knew, and this was a losing battle anyway.

“You’re damn right I have a nice ass,” he agreed with a grumble.

Determined to keep Clint from wasting any more time, he nudged Lucky pointedly and leaned over towards Clint. He took in how his expression morphed from startled to confused with a bit of smugness. With Lucky on the move, he hoped the retriever would find somewhere to settle for a while. Ashitaka pressed a chaste kiss to Clint’s lips, and let himself smile. No more wasted moments. He’d spend this life - and likely the next - with every day dedicated to him. He had a lot to make up for, in both time and apologies. And what better time to start than the present?

“No tattoos today,” he bargained, followed by another kiss.

“Not today.” Clint repeated without hesitation. When Ashitaka pulled back, Clint moved forward to meet his lips again.

Yeah, Ashitaka could get used to this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i know hawks has a canon name now but it's too little too late bc i'm attached to takaki ashitaka 😔
> 
> anyway, i couldn't have them just like. skip over addressing things?? but i didn't want to focus on that since this is supposed to be fluff owo"  
> so hopefully the angst lite(tm) was handled alright, bc the fluffy wrap-up is gonna be a one-shot following this uwu


End file.
